


Stranded

by laeira



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Teenage characters, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laeira/pseuds/laeira
Summary: A casual movie night full of laughter and friends becomes emotionally charged when Buttercup and Butch get left alone
Relationships: Butch & Buttercup Utonium
Kudos: 32





	Stranded

“Butch, you sick fuck.”

  
He rolled his eyes at Buttercup’s disgusted expression, “I just understand the human condition.” Butch reached for another handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table. Ranch had never been Butch’s favorite flavor, but whatever. Harry buying weird chips because he had shitty taste buds wasn’t Butch’s problem. Chips were chips.

  
They’d finished their horror movie marathon about half an hour ago. The twins’ lanky limbs were strewn across the floor in front of the television. Harry was hanging upside down from one of the armchairs and Mitch slouched in the other. Butch and Buttercup had claimed the couch. Or more Buttercup had claimed it. Butch was confined to one end while she’d sprawled herself across it. He was stuck with her legs across his lap while she used the opposite arm rest to prop up her head. Earlier, he’d made a stink about her feet in his face, but it’d just been for show. Butch knew she wasn’t going to move and he didn’t want her to.

  
The only light in the room came from the television that’d been playing the movie menu on loop for about half an hour now. Mitch had muted it a while ago when they’d all gotten tired of hearing the leading actress’s screams on repeat. There’d been a comfortable silence in the apartment until Lloyd started a debate about what items they’d bring with them on a deserted island.

  
“I don’t know, man.” Harry said, “I think I’d bring something more useful. Like a knife or something.”

  
“Of course you’re gonna bring a knife as one item, dumbass. But we’re discussing getting to bring three items.” Butch was used to being discredited for his opinion, but he knew when he was right. And this time, he was right. “Two items for survival and one for entertainment. Without entertainment you’re gonna go insane.”

  
Buttercup scoffed, “A normal person would bring a book, but I forget you’re too stupid to know how to read.”

  
“What, do you want to read the same book everyday till you die?” Buttercup just glared instead of replying, so Butch took that as an invitation to go on. “No, you don’t because you’re going to get tired of it. And what do humans do when they get bored? They jack off. I’m not the sick fuck. The sick fucks are you guys who’d have to spend time rigging together sticks and leaves and shit when you got tired of using your hands.”

  
Buttercup moved to kick him in the chest, but he caught her foot. “Not everyone is as endlessly horny as you.”

  
“It’s not about being endlessly horny. It’s about being stranded alone with nothing better to do.”

  
Mitch finally decided to join the conversation, “Yeah, I never really thought about it, but guys stranded out to sea must just get themselves off all day.” Harry and the twins started nodding in agreement. Butch smirked in pride over winning them onto to his side.

  
Buttercup stood up and started moving their dirty dishes into the kitchen, “You all disgust me.”

  
Butch floated over to where she was in the kitchen, dumping their mostly eaten chips and other junk food into the trash and putting empty water glasses in the dishwasher. He was ready to gloat over his victory, even if it meant risking bodily harm. “Don’t get mad at us for being honest. Not everyone is as much of a prude as you.”

  
He leaned right to dodge the punch she sent towards his head, but she still landed an uppercut to his gut. In response, Butch snatched a handful of ice from the freezer and dropped it down the back of her shirt. Buttercup gasped and jumped from the cold. Then, rewarded him with a cup of soda thrown in his face.

  
The boys were used to Butch and Buttercup’s roughhousing by now, but they still took it as their cue to leave. After the twins once ended up at the bottom of a dog pile, the boys learned it was better to clear out and avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Mitch popped his DVD out of the player, and after a quick goodbye, the gang was gone. They’d left Butch and Buttercup with the apartment to themselves.

  
Butch picked at his wet shirt, “Really? I’d rather have a bloody nose than be gross and sticky like this.”

  
Buttercup tossed him a towel, “I know you would, cuz like I said, you’re a sick fuck. I refuse to participate in fulfilling your twisted needs.”

  
He scrubbed the towel through his hair, but it didn’t do anything to remove the sugar that was now matting his strands together. He gave Buttercup an annoyed look. He really wasn’t a two showers in one day type of guy, but it looked like he’d have to make an exception tonight. Then, he got a brilliant idea. He knew he wasn’t usually the idea guy, but he was feeling good about his track record tonight. No reason he should have to suffer alone. And yeah, he could just throw some soda on her, but where was the fun in that?

  
In a flash of green, he ripped off his soaking shirt and scrubbed it all over her head. She started screeching and cursing him out, before finally managing to throw him off of her. Butch landed in a heap on the ground, curled up and wheezing with laughter. He gasped for breath between laughs, finally managing to get out, “you...you should...should’ve seen your face!”

  
Buttercup gaped at him. Her hair was a dripping mess and she kept opening and closing her mouth. It was like she couldn’t decide exactly what obscene thing to call him. Her expression reminded him of a fish and he lost it again. His laughter must’ve snapped Buttercup out of her shock because she finally said, “Butch, I should kill you! I told you I didn’t want to participate in your fucking sick games! You perverted fuck!”

  
Butch realized his position on the floor wasn’t very strategic. He was definitely within range and vulnerable to getting his balls stomped on. Something he’d experienced from her before and wasn’t too keen to have happen again. However, the total joy he’d felt over her ridiculous expression hadn’t left him, and for possibly the first time in his life, Butch realized he wasn’t in the mood to fight. Maybe a playful slapping around, but he didn’t want chemical X to have to repair his bones. Which is what was about to happen if he didn’t calm Buttercup down. So, he decided to try something new.

  
Buttercup’s hands were clenched into fists at her sides and her glowing eyes were ready to, literally, burn holes into this chest. He floated up off the floor, still chuckling, and wrapped his arms around her. She immediately stiffened. He wasn’t trying to restrain her. It’d take very little effort for her to free her arms and deck him in the face or throw a knee into his groin. Remembering his vulnerable groin made him think maybe the hug wasn’t actually a great idea.

  
Touch and proximity had never been weird for them. That was probably why they fought so much. Fighting at least put some emotion into it. Gave it some meaning. Otherwise, touch was lazy and useless. A hand here, a leg there, or a casual shove. Those all meant nothing, but fighting had passion. It said “all I want to do is hang out with you because you get me.”

  
Butch felt Buttercup’s arms relax as she unclenched her fists, but she didn’t totally loosen up. He pulled slightly back to see if she was still planning on laser beaming him. Instead, he found Buttercup as red as Brick’s stupid hat.

  
He remembered he was half naked.

  
Since he was an asshole, and she hadn’t shoved him off yet, he dragged both of them to the ground. They fell in a heap with him on his back and her laying on his chest. Then, he let her go. She could get up whenever she wanted. It’s not like he would force her to stay, because that’s creepy and fucked up. He wasn’t a dick.

  
Buttercup propped herself up on her elbows. There was still red in her cheeks, but the blush had mostly gone away, “I hope you know you suck.”

  
Butch could ruin the moment with a joke like “yeah, but you swallow,” but he was trying to get his self-destructive behaviors under control. All he did was mumble in agreement.  
“Like seriously, I don’t get why I put up with you.”

  
She smelled like the soda. He hadn’t been paying attention before, but it must have been cola they’d gotten on each other. She smelled citrusy and spicy and sweet. He’d always liked cola, but now he was starting to think it was the superior soda.

  
“You’re such a jerk and you can’t calm down for five fucking minutes.”

  
He raised his hand and swept some damp strands of hair out of her eyes. If he had to pick the prettiest thing about Buttercup, it’d be her eyes. They were completely unfair. How was he supposed to think straight when those bright green eyes were looking at him? Not to mention how long and dark her lashes were. It was very distracting when she blinked. Totally unfair.

  
Buttercup had a decent poker face. She was skilled at keeping her expression neutral, but her eyes would always give her away. They crinkled at the edges when she was happy and narrowed when she was mad. When they were devoid of all emotion, like you were looking at an empty glass bottle, she was sad.

  
Right now, Buttercup’s eyes were wide and bright. Some people would probably mistake it for surprise over being dragged to the floor. If that was the case, she’d look more murderous. Buttercup hated being surprised. Butch thought he might be looking at some new emotion. Part of him thought maybe it was a trace of fear, but that couldn’t be right.

  
He didn’t dare touch her or speak. She was so close. Their faces were only a few inches apart. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheeks and her heartbeat on his chest. Every _ba-bum_ shot electricity through his body. It made his toes curl and his hands clench.

  
Then, the electricity was gone.

  
Buttercup was up on her feet near the door, jacket in hand. “Well, I should go before the Professor gets mad at me for being late. You know how he is about curfew.”

  
He did know. She’d complained about it enough. Still, the words to ask her to stay were at the edge of his mouth. One more movie, just the two of them, couldn’t hurt.

  
Butch stayed quiet.

  
She scuffed the toe of her sneaker against the ground. The silence stretched between them before finally she opened the door. As she walked out, she looked back at him. Damp strands of hair clung to her forehead, “I’ll see you at school. Goodnight, Butch.” The door clicked.

  
He sat up slowly, somehow feeling heavier with her gone.

**Author's Note:**

> https://mth-ppg-trashcan.tumblr.com/


End file.
